Compelled
by Lily Severn
Summary: Severus Snape has survived the final battle, and is able to spend Christmas with someone he loves for the first time in his life. Fluff. AU. OCSS. Happy Holidays!


Author's Note: This story includes an OC, Aoife, for whom I have a future planned with Severus. This is obviously AU, and there will be more fics about them, but I wanted a piece for Christmas. Consider this a glimpse of their life together before my other fics are posted (or even written, for that matter, ha ha). Enjoy!

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Compelled

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"This is the first Christmas I've not spend alone," Severus Snape's deep voice whispered, as he raised an intricate silver goblet full of pumpkin juice. It sparkled in the firelight, glistening in the relative dim. 

The woman who sat opposite smiled, her dark green eyes sparkling. Her dark chocolate hair fell in gentle waves around her shoulders, spilling over her emerald robes. "I am honored to be the first to brighten your holiday, Severus." Her voice was gentle, like moonlight shining through a pane of glass. Lovely but unobtrusive.

She lifted her own glass and raised it to meet his, her pale, slender fingers curled around its neck.

He raised a thin black brow, his signature facial expression, though it was devoid of its companion, the scowl. "Cheers."

Drinking slowly, they did not look at each other, though it was not out of dislike or discomfort. It was simply a habit, borne of years of solitude, coolness, and calculating silence.

"Aoife," he said softly.

Her name was pronounced _Ee-fah_, and he said it with a sweetness and respect for her that made her blush. She had always though her name odd, not quite "Eve" but not quite "Eva", and though the etymological roots of it were enchanting, she was humbled by his delicate demeanor when pronouncing it.

"You are truly a beautiful woman," he continued, his accent deepening, his black eyes warm.

She took another sip, laughing as she drew the glass rim away from her pale pink lips. "Severus. We have been married almost a year…darling, don't feel compelled to tell me these things."

Severus smiled. "I can't help myself. I need to say it. It's like breathing to me, Aoife. I want to make you feel loved. I love you."

She leaned over the table, her emerald robes pulling down tightly over her chest. Severus's eyes did not miss this, but he raised them to meet hers when she kissed him tenderly, laying a hand across his pale cheek. "And I you."

Aoife settled back into her chair, slicing a fork into the treacle pudding, eating it thoughtfully. Severus stared out the window to his right, his hooked nose in sharp profile against the cobalt sky and gently falling snowflakes. His lips were pressed thin, and his brow was furrowed in concentration. Aoife had known him long enough now to realize that in these moments, he would tell her what perturbed him if he thought it necessary. If not, she would simply wait in silence a few minutes, and then ask gently.

She continued eating, thinking of the work she had to perform the next day, the potions Severus had to concoct for his lesson plan when the holiday was over, his endless research as to the properties of snake venom…It was a task he had undertaken after he had nearly lost his life to the Dark Lord's viper, Nagini.

In public, he wore his robes with the high, stiff, starched collar, which provided the hideous scars some coverage. But around her, she who did not judge him, who had, in fact, aided in saving his life, he wore more traditional robes, almost Muggle-like. When he turned at this angle, contemplating, she could see the barest trace of a line creeping up from his collar, the thinnest scar.

He reached up unconsciously, adjusting his collar. She had not forgotten that he was a Legilimens, and she was no Occlumens herself. She had wanted him to sense that she was thinking of him.

"Do you remember the first words you spoke to me, Aoife?"

His voice broke the silence gently.

" 'It's lovely to see your eyes'."

He turned to face her, his ebony eyes moist. With tears? From the firelight? "In that moment, your voice was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard…you were wonderful, and brilliant, in how you…you saved me." He whispered the last three words, as though in awe of them.

She smiled. "It was not only my duty, Severus, but it was my pleasure to see you heal."

He lowered his head. "No one has ever cared for me so gently, so compassionately…not even Madame Pomfrey, though she'd be loath to hear it." He smirked, and she responded in kind. "I was so afraid, Aoife. So afraid of living my life alone, that death was almost welcome to me…"

A tear traced down her pale cheek. She had heard this before, but tonight, of all nights, it seemed he wished to tell her again, to make her understand his love for her. She reached across the table and held his hand, always surprised at its slender strength, at what those hands had done. They had created _and_ destroyed, but they had made potions that had saved lives, cured the ill, gave those who were dying hope.

"You changed that," he said softly, turning to face her. "You changed _me_. A year ago, I would never have spoken like this. My emotions were kept close, kept guarded, unshared…you made me realize that life cannot be spent that way."

She smiled at him, another tear falling. This time he saw it.

"Love, do not cry for me," he said quickly, alarmed. He stood and knelt by her side, gazing up at her face. She reached down and laid a hand upon his head, stroking his silky black hair. "I'm sorry to burden you with this, now, but…"

"Severus," she whispered, leaning down to kiss his mouth tenderly, letting her other hand rest beside his previous injury, feeling the muscles beneath the skin there twitch in uncertainty, "you are not a burden to me."

He pulled her close, and she slid off of her chair onto the floor in front of him, where he knelt, her hands still on his chest and hair. She rested her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder, on the other side, blowing warm breaths into his ear. He closed his eyes, smiling.

His hand met hers, enclosing it in a strong embrace of its own. They sat in silence for a moment, the fire crackling behind them, warming their backs and shining off of their hair, providing a solemn background for their shared quietude.

At last, Severus whispered, "You smell of chamomile."

Aoife nodded, humming her agreement. "I was brewing teas for the patients today. It's relaxing for them when so many are so ill…" She tilted her head, opening her eyes and staring ahead. "May I help you tomorrow? With your potions? I won't be a bother, I'll just cut things and so forth…I love to see you work."

Severus withdrew to look at her. "I won't be working tomorrow."

Her eyes widened and she tiled her head in question. "Why?"

Severus placed a hand on either side of her face, framing her. "I want to spend time with you, when you are here. I want to wake up beside you and share the morning with you. I want to hear about your dreams."

Aoife grinned, looking down shyly, a habit she'd acquired over the years. She had been a scrawny girl at Hogwarts, always sickly thin and never quite sure of herself. It wasn't until her fifth year that she had made true friends, and even then she preferred the world of academia to the world of social pressures and engagements. Flattery had not come to her unless it was in the form of mockery. A year younger than Severus, she had seen him as well, thin and gawky in his robes, and had realized that she was not alone in her adolescent insecurities.

She sighed. "I will be working for a bit tomorrow, Severus. Daedalus is still unwell, and Arthur's insisted on another Muggle splint for his tibia," she said with a shake of her head. "Other than those two, the ward's been quite…uneventful. We have our comings and goings, of course, many of them silly, but I don't suspect anything more than a few aches and pains from holiday shopping."

Severus stood suddenly. "Speaking of which…." He walked over to a small blue spruce they had decorated in the corner, with enchanted green lights (not made of fairies) and silver bulbs, cheery but still appropriately Slytherin. He knelt and retrieved a small box, wrapped in a deep red with a silver ribbon.

Aoife rose to meet him as he approached her, his eyes bright. "Shall I open it now?"

Severus nodded, guiding her to the settee before the fire. She sat delicately and untied the ribbon, letting it fall to the floor. Removing the lid, she caught the sparkle of silver within. She held her breath and gently pushed the tissue paper inside the box aside.

Aoife gasped as she saw the glittering necklace; a silver chain with a silver shape attached to the end, like an hourglass tipped on its side. She smiled. "The rune for dawn," she said softly.

Severus asked timidly, "Do you like it?"

Aoife grinned, laughing. "I love it! It's beautiful." She clasped it about her neck and then gazed at it again. "Is…is this goblin silver?"

Severus nodded. He had spent a fortune of Galleons on it. He knew she had loved Ancient Runes; she owned several books on them, all heavy and leather and ancient themselves.

She laced her hands around his neck and kissed him passionately. "Thank you, Severus."

He nodded, running his hand through her soft hair. "It was my pleasure, love. Rest assured, there is more under that conifer for you, gifts that are perhaps more utilitarian."

Aoife giggled, throwing her head back. Her laughter was like the sound of silver bells. "Severus, please! No more unicorn tail hair; we have enough on the ward."

Severus laughed. "When the apothecary has a sale, I simply cannot help myself."

Aoife looked into his eyes, her face as serious as she could make it, though a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "I have a rune…of sorts…to give to you."

Severus's eyebrow raised again, and he licked his upper lip. "Oh?"

She nodded, standing and walking into her office, a small room off to the side of his chambers at Hogwarts where he had once kept old cauldrons and ladles. She returned with a small piece of parchment and an elegant blue quill, already dipped in ink. She moved gracefully across the floor, sitting beside him again and drawing a simple rune; two Xs stacked atop one another. She slid the drawing over to Severus, who simply stared at it, his mouth slightly open.

She waited.

"Aoife…"

She felt her excitement rising within her as the realization dawned in his eyes. She could almost see him flipping through the aged pages of textbooks in his mind. "Yes?"

"Th-this…this is the fertility rune." He blinked.

She smiled, whispering softly, "Yes…it is."

He turned to her, his face softening. Setting the parchment down, he embraced her, holding her slender frame close to his body, as though he would lose her if he let go. She clung to him, happiness feeling like it leaked from every pore.

She was suddenly aware of her shoulder becoming rapidly damp.

"Severus?"

She withdrew and saw his gaunt face, wet with tears. He wiped at it hurriedly, but she raised a hand and stopped him, laying it there gently.

"These are t-tears of j-joy, Aoife," he said thickly. His lip trembled, and she kissed it, feeling the hot tears course down over her own lips.

"Th-thank you," he whispered into her ear, holding her close, holding her as though she was the only thing that mattered.

Aoife nodded, feeling her throat tighten. All she had done was love this man, love him with every fibre of her being, and he was almost broken by it. It was not a weakness, in her eyes, but a strength, a testament to what he had endured, and what he had longed for.

"Severus, you've given me so much," she said, kissing his neck. "I am so happy, here, with you."

He rested his head atop hers, stroking her hand gently. "As am I." He slid his hand down to her stomach, pausing.

"H-Here?"

Aoife nodded. "Mm-hm."

He inhaled sharply. "When?"

"Late July."

A flash of hazel eyes and dark, tousled hair burned through his mind. Those glasses. That scar.

"Early August, perhaps."

He exhaled a breath he did not realize he was holding.

Aoife laughed below him. "Don't worry, Severus. I won't turn our children into swans like my namesake."

Severus pretended to have thought that very thing. He coughed. "Wouldn't dream of thinking such a thing."

She laughed, turning round to face him. "I'm sorry I made you drink pumpkin juice instead of wine."

"I thought it was a bit odd."

"I know you don't like it, but I just couldn't--"

"Perfectly understandable, love."

"It is out of season, after all, though I recall Dumbledore saying something about--"

Severus laid a finger on her lips. She blinked. "You speak quickly when you're nervous. What's troubling you?"

Aoife blushed. "Do I?"

"It's predictable and adorable."

She sniffed. "Will I make a good mother, Severus?"

He drew back in surprise. "And why would you have the slightest doubt?"

"I've never….been one."

Severus laughed. "And I have never been a father, love, but…." Oh, God. A father. He was a _father_.

Images of his own childhood came rushing back; Tobias's angry face as he clouted his son, his anger, his voice ringing through the halls with malice, his mother cowering in the corner, his own hot tears and shame, the bruises…

He swallowed.

Aoife whispered, seeing the torment in his eyes, "You are not him."

He looked down at her, and for a moment his eyes were icy, cold, preparing for the snappish verbal assault that had once followed. Not anymore. "I know," he said with a sigh, the ice melting almost instantly.

She murmured, "We'll experience this together."

He nodded, holding her hand and looking into the fire. She followed his gaze, watching the dancing flames. They breathed slowly, in their own time, at their own pace. Simply content to be in the other's company, in each other's arms.

The snow flew outside of the window, collecting on the ledge. The night became darker.

Aoife blinked in the light of the fire. "I'm going to sleep, Severus." She stood and stretched, then pointed to the tree in the corner. "Would you like a gift tonight as well?"

Severus stood and kissed her, holding both of her hands and looking into her face, her eyes. "You've given me two."

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Disclaimer: Everything recognizable in this fic is property of JK Rowling, not me, except for Aoife, whom I am proud to own. She's an OC. Don't sue me, and have a happy Christmas and holiday season! 


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